


A Little Rhythm and a Wicked Feeling

by SkyPiglet



Series: 100% AmberField Fluff [4]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Rachel as useless gay, Rachel has the tables turned on her, alcohol use, amberfield, pure Amberfield
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:00:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29709909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyPiglet/pseuds/SkyPiglet
Summary: Both drunk at a party, Rachel dares Max to give her a lap dance. But Rachel soon finds that she's bitten off more than she can chew...A flirty, almost scandalous, AmberField oneshot.(This can be read separately from the other entries in the series.)
Relationships: Rachel Amber/Maxine "Max" Caulfield
Series: 100% AmberField Fluff [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2161197
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	A Little Rhythm and a Wicked Feeling

_♫ Magdalena Bay - How to Get Physical ♫_

“I...I dunno Rach,” Max mumbles, tipsy, as she sits on Rachel’s lap, her arms around Rachel’s neck. It’s the end of the semester, and Justin’s pulled together another one of his house parties. The over-amped thumps of trashy EDM fill the background, and the whole place stinks of weed, beer, and fruity vape fog, but right now, all Rachel cares about is the mousy doe girl in front of her, falling all over her and the couch.

“Come on, little Maxie,” Rachel teases, pulling Max in by her shirt collar for a series of sloppy kisses. Their faces both flushed from alcohol, Rachel can tell that Max is an inexperienced lightweight, her lips missing the mark half the time. 

Trevor and Chloe woop from somewhere behind them, cheering them on. Rachel gives them the bird.

“Oh my dog,” Max says, biting her lip as they pull apart, “can we do that again?”

“Oh, we can do a lot more than that,” Rachel winks, tracing a finger down Max’s chest, past her belly button, but stopping just short of her waistband. Max gasps a little. 

Rachel smirks, her finger pushing Max’s chin up so their eyes meet. “But first, I want that lap dance. I dare you.”

“I tol’ you, Rach,” Max slurs, her eyes half open, “I don’ hav’ the moves for it.”

“You do though! I’ve seen you move your bony ass before. Right, Chloe?” Rachel tilts her head back, shouting at the peanut gallery.

“Yup,” Chloe grins, “I know you can shake it like the rest of us, Caulfield, despite your hipster bullshit!”

“But--”

“Come on, Max!” Trevor chimes in. 

“Yeah!” Justin says.

“Rachel…” Max says with puppy dog eyes. Rachel’s chest tightens with sudden guilt. _Am I pushing her too hard?_

Since they got together, these moments keep happening-- times when Rachel pulls Max into one situation or another, trying to coax her out of her shell, whether it’s scaling Frank’s RV when he’s away, swiping Chloe’s truck for a day, sneaking into Max’s dorm at night, or jumping a train car just to see where it takes them. It’s never come to a head, but Rachel understands how tender Max can be, and she tries to never push her too far.

“Hey, hey Maxie,” Rachel coos, holding Max’s face in her hands. “It’s okay, cutie. I know you’re feeling a little.... _wavy_ right now. And I’m asking a lot. You don’t have to--”

“Nooo Rachie,” Max says, her voice suddenly a husky, low hush, “you don’ get it. _Iwantyou_.” 

The slurring together of those last words, combined with that mischievous twinkle in Max’s eyes, sends a shiver through Rachel’s body. It’s _that look,_ and _that voice,_ that always turns Rachel into a useless pile of mush, reducing the normally confident social butterfly, the all-powerful Queen of Blackwell, into Max’s kitten. 

“Max, I--”

Before Rachel gets another word in, Max mashes herself into Rachel, kissing her again, and again, and again, running her hands through Rachel’s hair, tugging at her scalp, devouring her with her mouth, teeth nipping at her lips, their sloppy drunk tongues dancing in a mess of sensation and wet warmth. 

_Oh fuck,_ Rachel thinks, realizing she’s bitten off more than she can chew. _Drunk Max is sober me._

And then Max’s hands rip at Rachel’s red flannel, tearing the buttons open with urgency. Rachel lets the sleeves fall, the top landing in a curtain around her waist. But Max wants more, _god, she wants more,_ and she pulls away from kissing Rachel to dip lower, sucking at Rachel’s neck for one agonizing, blissful moment, before dipping lower still, until Max holds the edge of Rachel’s shirt between her teeth like puppy playing fetch. 

Max looks up at her with that same smolder again-- that sly grin, the glitter in her dangerous aqua eyes, that stirs something deep, and more importantly, _wet_ inside her. 

"Holy shit," Rachel says. 

Max yanks the shirt up, growling like a starved animal, past Rachel’s belly, then her chest, til she pulls it over Rachel’s head, leaving her in only her jeans and a bra. Max follows, scrambling to remove her own shirt, and flinging it somewhere behind her. 

Max straddles Rachel, hungry, and leans in, whispering into her ear.

“I love you, Rach.” Max says. The contact of bare skin on skin leaves Rachel breathless, wanting more.

“I love you too, Max. Are you--”

“Yes, I want to. A million times, yes.”

“But Max, you’re dr--”

Max shushes Rachel with a finger to her lips. “Shhhh. I am,” she giggles. “But I’m also very, veryyy into you. So it’s a yes. It’s always yes for you.” She winks. 

She gets off the couch, turning around so her butt faces Rachel. And Chloe and Trevor and Justin and Dana and Juliet and maybe even Brooke and Alyssa cheer them on, as Max just _does it_. 

At first Max wavers, her legs unsteady, but then she wiggles her hips, beginning with small motions to the rhythm of the song. Then she shifts to larger, gyrating movements, her ass rubbing up against Rachel’s pants, grinding on her as she dances. Despite all the jokes, Max’s butt feels soft, with just the right amount of cushioning, and every time she moves closer, Rachel’s body tingles with anticipation and desire. She sets her hands on Max’s hips, not sure how else to react, as Max’s apple honey hair, swishing and swaying with the music, fills the air around Rachel with sweetness, leaving her dizzy. 

Then Max stumbles, falling backwards onto Rachel, giggling up a storm like she just told the best joke in the history of the entire universe. The crowd whoops and hollers at the performance, and Max tilts her head back for a soft kiss, her hands tangling with Rachel’s. 

“Did I do good?” Max asks, smiling, eyes drunk with love.

“Yeah,” Rachel replies, still dazed, “that was--”

“Hella amazing?”

“Fuck, yes.” Rachel kisses her on the forehead, playing with her bangs. “It’s just a shame we’re not alone right now.”

“Mmm,” Max hums, drawing circles in Rachel’s palm. “That can be arranged.”

“Oh?”

Max rises from the couch, offering Rachel her hand. “Follow me?” 

Rachel blushes, leaving her shirt behind, as she follows Max upstairs.

“Yes. A million times, yes.”


End file.
